Bleed Into Me
by Funky In Fishnet
Summary: A grieving Kane is a very unhappy one. Daniel Bryan does his best to change that, for both their sakes.


_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing._

_**Author Note: **Set after the death of Paul Bearer (aka William Moody, RIP)._

* * *

**BLEED INTO ME**

The first Daniel heard about it was when he woke in the middle of the night to find an empty bed and half the blankets dumped on top of him. Kane was missing. Grumbling, Daniel attempted to knuckle sleep from his eyes and negotiate getting out of bed without getting tangled up in the blankets. He only tripped a couple of times, and nobody was there to see it happen, so it totally didn't count.

Okay, so Kane had taken his hotel keycard and his phone, and his mask, of course. He hadn't taken the keys for the rental, so this wasn't going to turn into a manhunt. Daniel could just get back into bed and sleep, but honestly, he slept better with the Big Red Furnace next to him. It was just weird now to be the only one in the king-sized beds they always booked. And Daniel hated a change in routine.

He grabbed his own keycard and shoved his feet into sneakers before snatching up a gym-branded sweatshirt as he headed out the door. As it was the middle of the night, the hallways and lobby were pretty much deserted. The redhead behind the reception desk caught his eye and gestured to the front doors. She'd been the one to check them in only a few hours ago. Great, he nodded his thanks and braced himself for the snap of winter weather that would no doubt rush to meet him.

Around the side of the building was a sort of courtyard, a place for smokers to hang out probably, or anybody who wanted a break from the suffocating hotel interior. And there was Kane, sat on a gigantic boulder and staring at his phone. Daniel's heart sort of flipped at the sight of him, decked out in dark washed-out sweats, the moonlight casting weird shadows over his sizable frame. It was how he always felt around Kane.

Daniel approached with caution. He'd learned from experience that a silent and still Kane was the most dangerous, potentially-violent, kind. Kane didn't move a muscle when Daniel stopped at his side; he was still staring at his phone. Daniel cocked his head to take a look at it too. It had to be bad news if someone called in the middle of the night, right?

After a stretch more of silence, Kane finally moved, inclining his head slightly as words spilled past his tight lips, raw and entirely pained. "My father…he's…"

Shit. Daniel immediately stepped closer. He didn't put a hand on Kane's shoulder; instead he pressed his side against his tag team partner. Because they had their differences, a lot of them, they constantly shouted at each other, throwing around blame after losses – Daniel was right of course, Kane just had to learn that. But that wasn't all they were.

Kane let out a pained sort of noise and pressed closer to Daniel. They stayed outside for a while, not saying anything, and just that single line of needy contact between them. When they eventually went back inside, Daniel kept a warm guiding hand at Kane's back.

* * *

Daniel scowled; Kane had totally grabbed the red crayon on purpose. Okay, it wasn't exactly unexpected, but Kane had to know that Daniel had been planning on using that color next. The bastard was smirking too. It was good to see him looking happy, even if it was as a result of totally annoying Daniel.

"Um…" the waitress gave them a weird look as she unloaded their drinks. "Usually its kids who take us up on the whole 'free coloring book and crayons with your meal' offer. Are you…?"

Daniel and Kane both glared at her until she very quickly retreated, giving Daniel ample time to grab the black crayon before Kane could get to it. Ha! How do you like them apples?

His fingers touched Kane's as he started to draw.

* * *

They argued about which radio station to listen to, of course they did. Daniel liked the more up-tempo, potentially-motivational stuff, while Kane went for the cliché of dark pounding metal, all industrial and threatening. Daniel was positive that Kane needed to go to more anger-management classes.

For the last few journeys, Daniel had exclusively been taking the wheel. Kane seemed to automatically go for the passenger seat, which was so weird considering how often they'd used to fight over who drove. But Daniel didn't ask about it, because it was pretty obvious why Kane was so mopey. CM Punk was being, well, a punk about Kane's father dying and that kind of attitude and behaviour was enough to make anyone grumpy.

So Daniel didn't mention Paul Bearer. He only said he was sorry once, offering a single condolence the night that Kane got the news, when Kane curled up on the large hotel bed, his back to Daniel. Daniel had said the words under the cover of darkness, his fingers tracing his depth of meaning across Kane's back. Kane had shifted closer.

Now, on the road, Daniel drove and found them places to eat, places where he could get really great vegan burritos and Kane could have as much murderous meat as he wanted. Daniel didn't even lecture him about the terrible things such a meal would do to his body. Kane ate with single-minded intensity. Daniel watched him scrutiniously.

* * *

"Yes…"

Daniel closed his eyes, his mouth falling open as yet another wave of pleasure hit. He could feel Kane's hands on his back, holding him in exactly the right place, for both of them. Sometimes, sex was more like a fight between them, peppered with snarling words and bites that felt like three-counts.

Now, though, now…

Now, Daniel was astride Kane's impressive thighs, twitching from how good Kane's thrusts inside of him felt. And God, it felt _really_ good. Most other times, Kane would be taunting him for that, for how responsive and easily led Daniel was, but instead Kane was basking in it. They both were, they both needed it.

Daniel rolled his hips again, desperate for more pleasure, chasing it as doggedly as he'd ever chased after championship gold. It was how he got things done. He dipped his head and lapped at Kane's mouth, at the vulnerable flesh exposed by the mask. Kane opened his mouth and it just got better.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes."

Maybe they were both saying those words, Daniel couldn't really tell. His mind was far too buried in pleasure to notice; his mouth could do what it liked. They were both good at this – of course, when they wanted to race, they could _race_. But when they needed _this_ – life coming back to Kane's eyes, sympathy and affection communicated through touch and open bliss - they were champions.

Kane bit his lip and they both tasted blood.

_-the end_


End file.
